If the Shepheard will suffer the sheep to be scab'd, Sir--
_Lop_.
No, no ye are rotten.
_Die_.
Would they were, for my sake.
_Lap_.
I have Nointed ye, and Tarr'd ye with my Doctrine, And yet the Murren sticks to ye, yet ye are Mangy, I will avoid ye.
2.
Pray ye, Sir, be not angry, In the pride of your new Cassock, do not part with us, We do acknowledge ye are a careful Curate, And one that seldom troubles us with Sermons, A short slice of a Reading serves us, Sir, We do acknowledge ye a quiet Teacher, Before you'll vex your Audience, you'll sleep with 'em, And that's a loving thing.
3.
We grant ye, Sir, The only benefactor to our Bowling, To all our merry Sports the first provoker, And at our Feasts, we know there is no reason, But you that edifie us most, should eat most.
_Lop_.
I will not stay for all this, ye shall know me A man born to a more beseeming fortune Than ringing all-in, to a rout of Dunces.
4.
We will increase your Tithes, you shall have Eggs too, Though they may prove most dangerous to our Issues.
1.
I am a Smith; yet thus far out of my love, You shall have the tenth Horse I prick, to pray for, I am sure I prick five hundred in a year, Sir.
2.
I am a Cook, a man of a dri'd Conscience, Yet thus far I relent: you shall have tith Pottage.
3.
Your stipend shall be rais'd too, good Neighbour _Diego_.
_Die._
Would ye have me speak for ye? I am more angry, Ten times more vex'd, not to be pacified: No, there be other places for poor Sextons, Places of profit, Friends, fine stirring places, And people that know how to use our Offices, Know what they were made for: I speak for such Capons?
Ye shall find the Key o'th' Church Under the door, Neighbours, You may go in, and drive away the Dawes.
_Lop_.
My Surpless, with one sleeve, you shall find there, For to that dearth of Linnen you have driven me; And the old Cutwork Cope, that hangs by Geometry: 'Pray ye turn 'em carefully, they are very tender; The remnant of the Books, lie where they did, Neighbours, Half puft away with the Church-wardens pipings, Such smoaky zeals they have against hard places.
The Poor-mans Box is there too: if ye find any thing Beside the Posie, and that half rub'd out too, For fear it should awake too much charity, Give it to pious uses, that is, spend it.
_Die_.
The Bell-ropes, they are strong enough to hang ye, So we bequeath ye to your destiny.
1.
'Pray ye be not so hasty.
_Die_.
I'le speak a proud word to ye, Would ye have us stay?
_2._.
We do most heartily pray ye.
_3._.
I'le draw as mighty drink, Sir.
_Lop_.
A strong motive, The stronger still, the more ye come unto me.
_3._. And I'le send for my Daughter.
_Lop_.
This may stir too: The Maiden is of age, and must be edified.
_4._.
You shall have any thing: lose our learned Vicar?
And our most constant friend; honest dear _Diego_?
_Die_.
Yet all this will not do: I'le tell ye, Neighbours, And tell ye true, if ye will have us stay, If you will have the comforts of our companies, You shall be bound to do us right in these points, You shall be bound, and this the obligation, Dye when 'tis fit, that we may have fit duties, And do not seek to draw out our undoings, Marry try'd Women, that are free, and fruitful, Get Children in abundance, for your Christnings, Or suffer to be got, 'tis equal justice.
_Lop_.
Let Weddings, Christnings, Churchings, Funerals, And merry Gossippings go round, go round still, Round as a Pig, that we may find the profit.
_Die_.
And let your old men fall sick handsomely, And dye immediately, their Sons may shoot up: Let Women dye o'th' Sullens too, 'tis natural, But be sure their Daughters be of age first, That they may stock us still: your queazie young Wives That perish undeliver'd, I am vext with, And vext abundantly, it much concerns me, There's a Child's Burial lost, look that be mended.
_Lop_.